


An unhealty breakfast

by JTWLostEchoLogs (QueerZubat)



Series: Brokenverse AU (BLTW drabbles) [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Hangover, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Mental Breakdown, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, referenced breakup, this man made his house a garbage dumpster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27957584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerZubat/pseuds/JTWLostEchoLogs
Summary: A morning of one of the many days that Jamison wasted, letting himself dwell in his bad habits and his sorrows.
Series: Brokenverse AU (BLTW drabbles) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2047460
Kudos: 1





	An unhealty breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Another short drabble from Broken Like These Worlds, centered around Jamison.  
> The era is after BL2 and Tales, but way before BL3 events.

Jamison tapped on the screen of his Hyperion branded Echo device to turn it back on, wobbling out of the small bedroom towards the open area that stands as both living room and kitchen while looking at the on-screen notifications. News notifications about who may be the new definitive CEO of Hyperion and what happened to the company, about some changes that are apparently are ongoing for Atlas, and about some other stuff he did not care about.  
Jamison thumbed them away and looked at what remained: some e-mails from his doctor gently asking him to stop skipping the routine check-ups, two messages from his parents, four not listened voicemails, and a handful of unread messages from Daisy that were there since...since she left him using his breakdowns as a sorry excuse.

The man exhaled hard from the nose – snorting like an angry bullymong – and tossed the Echo device onto the not-too-far messy and stained couch full of shed clothes, empty cans, and food wrappings.

The sound of metal that hit metal got Jamison’s attention again to the couch that he decided to reach.  
And there was his robotic right hand. Probably the night before he left it there or – most probably – he threw it after battling to remove it while completely drunk.  
Jay clicked his tongue in a sort of expressing his being disappointed with himself while he grabbed the prosthetic with the left hand. Luckily, the item was still in good shape... well, excluding the crumbs and its smell of old food and rakk ale. He wrinkled his nose and shook a couple of times the prosthetic to remove all the crumbles from it before checking the status of the connector part before trying to insert it back into the arm’s socket.

A couple of loud clacks and a slight whirring noise meant that everything was connected and – hopefully – working.  
Jay rotated the wrist a few times, wiggled the fingers, grabbed an empty can from the couch, and crushed it in his hand. Yep, everything was working as it should.

He chucked the crushed can behind his back and walked towards the small kitchen area separated from the living only with a simple countertop with a couple of tall stools...of which one was lying on the floor.

The prosthetic hand put its fingers in that mess of a bi-colored grimy bed hair and scratched the scalp while the right reached for a more or less clean bowl on the kitchen counter that was grabbed and set on the countertop, followed by a tablespoon few moments later.  
Jamison opened the fridge and grabbed the open milk carton, looking inside it with his good eye and sniffing it. Not really convinced, he shrugged and lifted it to drink a mouthful of that.  
Eyes widened and in an instant, that mouthful of milk was spat on the floor of the kitchen while the carton of milk was thrown into the sink half-full of dirty dishes and cookware.  
The good eye quickly scanned that small and messy kitchen – probably if someone would have thrown in there a grenade it would have looked better – and stopped on an almost-empty bottle of an amber colored liquor, probably some kind of rum. Jay grabbed it and grabbed the half-empty box of chewy “Splodeo’s” that poured into the bowl followed by the liquor.

Not the healthiest breakfast, but at least he’ll have something in his stomach to take his painkillers.


End file.
